Beast Wars Bed and Breakfast Musical Meme 3
by Lady Shockbox
Summary: Sequel to “Beast Wars Bed and Breakfast Musical Meme 2” - Based off the very successful forum, Beast Wars Bed and Breakfast. Written for a meme on Live Journal. Put your music on shuffle, choose a subject, and go. Oneshot.


Taking a break from updating my other fanfics to relieve my hard drive from the countless oneshots that have been lurking there, this fic included. The third year Beast Wars Bed and Breakfast anniversary passed a little while back in February, and I was in the middle of writing this when the date passed over. I wasn't around to post it because I was in Canada for vacation, and thus had no access to the internet. For my fellow Bed and Breakfast beasties out there, you'll have to forgive me if anyone's out of character. It's been awhile. Enjoy, and feedback would be much loved.

* * *

Musical Meme: Choose a subject and go - Put your entire music collection on shuffle, hit play, and write. Write for as long as each song plays and move on to a different writing when the song switches (even if it's mid-sentence). Go for ten songs (or five). If nothing comes, it still counts. If you're listening to a comedian, you can skip it.

**i**

_American Idiot_ - Green Day

Terrorsaur was on the verge of wanting to scream. Either that, or he was going to shoot Shockbox and Waspinator right on their sorry skid plates.

Both paper and giant wasp had been up since the crack of dawn that very same morning, and neither of the two Predacons had slowed in their idiotic playing. It was always on the warm summer days that the terrible insect duo was at their worst when it came to their energetic tendencies. They were usually calmer and much more quiet when the outside temperature was below sixty, but Primus just _had_ to make it above eighty that particular day. Eighty-six degrees to be exact. There had not been much activity from Megatron and the hunters for over a week, so Airrizzon took it upon herself to organize a group of willing bots to go to the nearby beach with her. Needless to say, mostly everyone was willing. _Most_. Optimus had valiantly tried to convince the Bed and Breakfast owner otherwise - he warned that leaving their secondary base of operations undermanned would be a terrible risk to their security - but Terrorsaur's offer to remain behind to keep the weapons systems Darktide and Rhinox installed online finally eased the Prime's doubts. Terrorsaur honestly did not mind missing out due to the fact he absolutely detested the feel of salty air clinging to his wings, but he _did_ find himself minding when Shockbox and Waspinator offered to stay behind as well. Tri's offer did not help either, but it was Shockbox and Waspinator who Terrorsaur was far more worried about. If any two beings could turn the Predacon leader's life into a living Pitt, it was his wingmates.

The others had been gone for six hours and the sun was beginning to set, but it did not stop Shockbox and Waspinator from desisting in their play. If the two weren't running on high power batteries, Terrorsaur was positive they were hyped on sugar.

"I need to remind Airrizzon to hide the sugar stores again," the purple flier murmured underneath his breath. Just as he said it, Waspinator tackled Shockbox to the ground in beast-mode and he nipped the tip of her antenna. The femme squealed and razzed loudly before trying to throw the green mech off of her.

Tri cackled sitting up in a branch just above Terrorsaur's head. The Transmetal pterosaur was positive that Dinobot's younger brother was purposely trying to grate on his nerves by remaining behind instead of going to the beach. It was working of course, but at least the nearly lime green mech was not nearly as irritating as Waspinator and Shockbox. "If those two weren't flirting with each other, I'd say they were idiots."

**ii**

_As Long As You're Mine_ - Idina Menzel and Leo Norbert Butz from _"Wicked"_

It had been a game. _Their_ game.

It would start in a dark room and proceed from there, moving slowly but never too fast. It was a game that required serene peace, quiet, and pacing. Something that could never be rushed without the risk of ruining its still tranquility. They had to be quiet because the baby slept in the room just next to theirs, but the infant's presence never stopped them from their game. He was not always as dominant in the relationship as he would have liked - being kicked around by Maximals because he was a Predacon had done that to him - but _she_ did not care. She loved him anyways.

She would approach him from behind and reach her lithe arms around him as if to almost take him by surprise. He would always expect her advances of course, but that would never stop him from shuddering against the warm touch of her fingers trailing over his chest. She would mistake his trembling for fear and she would coo in his audio that everything was all right. Her fingers would trail imaginary pathways down his heating chassis and would slow before they went past his abs. His breath would always hitch and he would whimper her name before she let her fingers slip down further. The darkness would be thick enough to hack through with a fine edged blade, but suddenly ignite with the stars that slowly burned into existence inside him. He would lean back against her steady form from the inability to sit up. With his breath coming out in strangled gasps, her name would escape from him in trembling breaths and groaning with a subdued fervor. He could project his voice just as easily as a megaphone, so he had to force himself to keep quiet. The one time he failed keep his vocals in check - it had been while their daughter was spending time over at their aunt's house for a visit - an old Maximal woman who lived in the apartment beyond their bedroom wall came bashing at their door asking if someone was being murdered. He would keep himself from thrashing to the best of his power during his overloads and, as soon as she knew he was through, she'd kiss up and down his neck and face, whispering in gently soft adoration that she loved him.

There would be some nights that _he_ would make the first move. It would start in darkness the same as before, but he would approach her from in front. Although her mentality was far more resolved and reinforced than his own, she was still so much smaller and weaker in physical stature than he was. It was a unspoken rule of his that he would never approach her unless she looking straight at him. That way he could see the permission for him to continue glowing in her pale blue eyes. She understood why he did this and never argued with him about it. He would touch her face, kiss her forehead and lips, and his fingers would trail downward. He touched her like one would touch glass thin enough to shatter with the force of just the slightest movement, because that was how terrified he was of ever loosing her. She understood this and, again, voiced no complaint. Only the reassurance that she would not break. By the time he was where she wanted him, she would wrap her arms around his shoulders and cling to him like he was a lifeline. She was quiet and the most noises she ever made were quick pants, but the aftermath left her listless like a rag doll. He would hold her and tell her he loved her.

One of all the times they played their game though, she had leaned close to his audio and whispered. _"As long as your mine, love. As long as your mine…"_

Both Maximal and Predacon continued their game for a long, happy time. Unfortunately, like all games, someone has to lose.

"Terrorsaur?"

The flier snapped his head up out of his thoughts. When his vision cleared - and after running a quick diagnostics check on his optical fluid levels to make sure that he hadn't teared up - he turned his neck and head downward to regard at Leppender from where he sat on the high tree branch. He was not sure how long she had been standing there exactly, but he could see Optimus standing with his back silhouetted against the sunset watching some ways away behind her. Terrorsaur could recognize the way the huge Maximal leader watched the snow leopard as a sign that _they_ were also playing a game not too unlike the one he used to play with Jailbird before her murder.

Somewhere inside the Bed and Breakfast, Dinotor was playing music from some form of musical that she must have seen somewhere. It took every ounce of willpower to tell Leppender he was all right without loosing himself to the anguish of his own loss. _"Every moment, as long as your mine…"_

**iii**

_Away From Me_ - Evanescence

He wasn't insane. At least, he _hoped_ he wasn't.

He had plenty of moments to doubt his sanity on several occasions. Namely, of course, when he and Chronose were loose in the sewers of Cybertron after their escape of P.E.L.M. Those days where as dark as their nights.

When they killed - their prey ranging anywhere from the law enforcement that tried to recapture them to the homeless bystanders who also took refuge in the underground labyrinth - they would kill their victims with such a casual sense of uncaring _ease_ that he seriously began to question how far he had gone, and what being trapped in the cruel care of the scientists and their psychic experiments had done to him. Chronose mostly dismissed his friend's behavior as neurotic and overly philosophical, and the black mech merely continued on with his bloody tendencies, torturing his victims until they pleaded for death. This was something that usually gave Chronose an excuse to continue, almost gleefully, with his gruesome tormenting. He claimed it to be revenge for his own suffering, but Ozonide knew better. Ozonide knew that it was because the dark plated mech _liked_ the prospect of hurting others, regardless of whether or not it was for the sake of avenging himself for what he endured as an experiment in P.E.L.M. Ozonide knew Chronose was insane, but was unable to tell if he had fallen from that same grace. That scared him.

Always wanting to ensure that he hadn't lost his mind in the same sense that Chronose had, he tried to kill his victims as swiftly as he could. Unfortunately, his inexperience with trying to get his nanobots to move in sync with his commands made the job easier said than done, and sometimes those he slaughtered died screaming and begging for death in the same manner of Chronose's own kills. Chronose would often congratulate him for his murders, and thus Ozonide tried even harder to separate himself from Chronose's level of inhumane lunacy. The further away he was from Chronose's darkly insane trends, the more sane that made him. He did not want to be crazy. He wanted to be sane.

Except, even years after he escaped the tunnels and found himself on prehistoric Earth, he wasn't sure of _what_ he was anymore.

A dark wet nose attached to a white furred snout appeared at the opening of the small den he had his nanites dig out below the shrubbery bush. Flash glanced down upon catching his friend's scent, and he peered down into the den. "Hey! I thought I smelled you down here! Pegasus wants us back for more training by the big waterfall!" The white wolf was grinning lopsidedly, his tongue hanging out from between his jaws adorned with pearly white fangs. It was the mouth of a killer attached to a child. The wolf seemed to catch onto his depressive air and the grin once adorned completely vanished. Flash looked both confused and worried simultaneously, tilting his head to the side to further give him an air of uttermost benevolence. "Ozonide? Buddy, what's wrong?"

Ozonide looked up from previously being curled into a small ball, forcing himself to smile and reaching his hand up to rub at his teary optics. "Nothing."

In reality, it was a lie. In truth, it felt like he was getting away from himself. The further he got, the more it frightened him.

**iv**

_Evil Angel_ - Breaking Benjamin

They were birds of a feather.

Shockbox pointed out to them that neither of them actually _had_ feathers, but it was not like Shockbox to understand metaphors. It also would not be like her to understand what they meant even if she could grasp the meaning behind the phrase. Though Terrorsaur was admittedly a handsome, reasonably intelligent and ruthless flier unlike Waspinator, they still had more in common than anyone could ever hope to understand. The same went for Waspinator. Even if the wasp was more socially adapt, having a better knack at getting along with others and being much more outgoing than Terrorsaur, both he and his red counterpart were still very much alike.

More alike in ways they never imagined.

The most obvious of the things they had in common mostly regarded that they were Predacon fliers. Unlike most air bound Predacons though, they had an almost intimate relationship with the sky that other fliers did not have. Both mechs were orphaned very early on in their short lives - Terrorsaur when his mother died from committing suicide, Waspinator when his mother was trampled to death - and years of suffering, loneliness, heartbreak, and abuse on the streets while living alone left the sky as their sole and only companion during those dark times. Though Predacons were forbidden to fly as stated by a proposition that passed by the Maximal Elders without Predacon civilian consent, both reasonably young fliers were able to sneak into alleyways and hover without being spotted by law enforcement. Those sweet, blissful moments in time while they floated above the ground gave them the freedom of feeling like they weren't the lowly scum their low self-confidence made them feel like.

They were gods in the air, untouchable by mortals wanting to bring them down.

**v**

_Guardian Angel_ - Lovex

He was her guardian angel.

It was not as if he did this on purpose - _Primus no_ - but it was only when he realized his function in her life that he finally acknowledged it as a fact. He at first tried to shove the initial acknowledgement aside, dismissing it as weakness and a reason for him to further distance himself from her, but she was very persistent in engaging him in just the opposite. It was either a curse or a godsend with how socially active and outgoing the femme was. She asked him for sword lessons, wanted to learn the human poetry she heard him occasionally recite when he thought no one could hear, and persisted that she get to know him as an actual person and not simply as a fellow comrade in arms. This intrigued Dinobot more than it irritated him, as Skyfire had the same sense of honor he had. She was a curious femmebot.

Her sword clashed with his, but he very easily seized his chance to roughly twirl it out of her hands. Her grip was far too weak and flimsy to keep a sufficient hold. Skyfire cried out in surprise and let go when the blade was forcibly flipped out of her grasp, staggering backward as the sword flew through the air before landing tip first in the grass by a patch of red and purple flowers. Dinobot turned, sidestepped, and thrust his own sword up at the level of her throat. He stopped himself before he could impale her, letting the rotating tip of his blade twiddle beneath her jaw so that the light from the late afternoon sun caught against its reflective surface. Skyfire stood perfectly still, breathing hard and watching Dinobot through her tired eyes. Her optics reflected a calculating sense of wise much like his own, but the innocence of her youth made them so much more benevolent.

In an ironic way, that gave him an excuse to be her guardian. To ensure that that same sense of life would not leave her eyes like his once did.

The ex-Predacon snorted and lowered his blade. Although the mock fight had been tiring for the bald eagle femme, it was child's play for Dinobot. His breath came out calmly and evenly, unlike Skyfire's forcibly subdued pants. "You became overconfident and your grip was flimsy. Never underestimate your opponent and never let your guard down."

Skyfire nodded. She was a perfectly capable Maximal he knew, but even that still did not stop her from insisting that Dinobot act as her mentor. A guardian, so to speak. Skyfire said nothing more in return, but her innocent eyes pleaded that they continue.

Dinobot turned, walked over to the patch of red and purple wildflowers, and grabbed the thrown sword's hilt before tearing it up from the soil. The flowers remained undamaged, but the grass was somewhat torn from the rough tug he gave to jar the blade loose. He stood and flipped it skillfully into the air before catching it by its well crafted handle, whereupon he handed it back to her after she walked over. He nodded at her. "Don't loose focus."

"Of course," she agreed, taking the sword and bending her knees so that she was braced in a fighting stance. Her optics were fiery with the same warrior's passion he had, and that was perhaps another reason that he ultimately realized that he was a guardian angel to her. That same passion gave him a reason to stay by her side, and he found that very much worthwhile.

He lunged, and their swords clashed. The flowers swayed in the breeze.

**vi**

_I Hate Everything About You _- Three Days Grace

And it had started raining.

All the Predacons held back - rain dripping off their bodies, mud caked to their scuffed hides - as Terrorsaur limped over to the designated battlefield. The volcanic ash of the lava field had turned to a thick clay that clung to his feet and legs, adding weight to his already heavy legs and dangerously hindering his all ready hindered chances of winning any brawl under those conditions. He looked up, squinting through the rain. His vision was blurred from both the torrential downpour and the crack running through his right optic, but he could still make out the red armor gleaming in the lightning that flashed overhead. Megatron stood to shift back to beast-mode and Terrorsaur followed suit. Thunder rumbled ominously. Transmetal pterosaur and Transmetal two dragon made optical contact instantly, furnace red crimson locking with winter amethyst violet.

Lightning crackled, split through the air, and tensions further rose. The Predacons watching from the side lines were entirely silent, optics glued to the two opposing forces that threatened to tear their faction with all the force of two raging storms.

Briefly, Terrorsaur had to wonder exactly _what_ had led up to that decisive point where both he and their deranged leader were facing off. Perhaps it was when Megatron first hit him out of frustration when they failed to kill Optimus and Dinobot at the beginning of the Beast Wars. Perhaps it was when he overcharged himself on that flying mountain in a vain attempt to first overthrow Megatron. Whatever the reason, the flier Predacon supposed it did not matter. All that mattered was the storm, freeing his comrades from Megatron's insane clutches, and completely destroying Megatron _himself_. He could not be sure as to whether or not he would be successful or killed, but that did not matter either.

All that mattered, of course, was the hate.

The tyrant in front of him, raking his talons in the mud and snorting hot embers out of his somewhat agape jaws, made his internals boil like the furnace of Megatron's fiery gaze. Megatron entirely infuriated him. He only followed the now blatantly insane tyrant to steal the Golden Disk because he believed that the once purple mech - an attorney in that past, distant lifetime long ago on Cybertron - actually had a _chance_ at overthrowing the corrupt Maximal Elders and bringing the Predacons back to power. Now it was palpably clear that saving Cybertron's decaying minority was not in the lunitic's interests anymore. Perhaps saving the Predacons was never in his interests at _all_. The more Terrorsaur thought about it, the more it made sense. To Megatron, ultimately, he and the others were nothing more than tools in his grand scheme of selfish pursuits.

Terrorsaur hated being used. _No more._

The pterosaur snarled. "I hate everything about you."

The fight began, and the air was filled with screeches, roars, and the violent revenge of the thunder's ferocious explosions.

**vii**

_The Truth Beneath the Rose - _Within Temptation

His kind had been forced to the edge of extinction.

He was not born on his home world, but he would have undoubtedly been annihilated as a result if he had. The unnamed planet had been dying for centuries after a series of volcanic eruptions meddled with the atmosphere's electromagnetic fields. An electromagnetic field that, once upon a lovely time long since past, kept the planet from frying at the licking brilliance of the constantly spouting solar flares if their lonely plane's triplet suns. It was a miserable existence made even worse by the cannibalism from the shortage of food and the once luscious landscape turning into nothing more than fiery lava oceans and rocky plateaus. It was around that time that the Vok finally stepped in.

He was born one year later in the Nexus Zero.

He never knew his father - their species was once primarily the kind that both the male and female parents were participants - because he had been destroyed due of his vicious tendencies and inability to be tamed. He had been a survivor of their dying home world before it was finally eradicated and obliterated as a result of a massive solar flare. His mother was just as treacherous, aggressively trying to force him away whenever he tried to breast feed or simply try to sleep in her company. His species _used_ to be docile and peaceful, but the conditions of their world's deterioration turned them all murderously aggressive and violent. He was_ not_ however - he never had to sink to such low levels to survive, granted that he never lived on his long since decimated home world - and that was why the Vok eventually removed him from his mother. The last thing they wanted was for his mother to kill him. The Vok wanted their species because they could detect, harvest, and even _create_ energon. It was a precious life source to them, and that was the sole reason why the saved the few remaining of his species and tried to repopulate them. They were useful tools that could be used, both as harvesters… and destroyers.

That was why they packed him away and took him to a planet where they were conducting experiments on energon. The experiment, in their words, had been meddled with. Not only was he to collect the remaining energon, but he was to destroy the ones who ruined the initial experiment as well. Ultimately, that was also how Airrizzon found him.

He sat by on the cliff's edge looking over the field where the Bed and Breakfast sat, its huge hulk silhouetted against the moon and dark sky that twinkled with little stars. The massive tree was even taller than _he_ was, but he still felt small when Airrizzon walked over beside him. She was able to fit in the palm of his hand easily, but her confidence and the sparkling she felt for both him and her adoptive family of mismatched Beast Warriors made him feel as though he could fit in her _own_ hand. The same hand she lightly put against his huge claw when she leaned against him and looked up with a smile. With her other hand, she extended it outward and a bush started to grow a little ways away. "Are you all right, Friend?"

The ebony furred and dark skinned demon looked down at her, red eyes dull. "Friend just… thinking. Friend not want friend worry."

The bush that Airrizzon was growing started to spout flowers. Airrizzon lightly patted his claw before walking over to them. "What were you thinking about? You can tell me."

Friend felt his throat constrict at the memories of his now long dead mother trying to tear his throat out. "Mama. Mama… think Friend useless baby. No love Friend."

Airrizzon said nothing. Instead, she plucked one of the flowers on the bush and flapped her wings to fly up to him. He lifted a huge paw and extended it so that she could land on his palm. Any other being who did not know him would have shuddered at the prospect of being ensnared in the clutch of that same hellishly large paw, but Airrizzon was only smiling up at him from her perch. She lightly set the small flower down and spread her wings again before taking off. "That's only because she did not see the truth of how powerful you really are. Even if you don't see it… I do." She winked knowingly, optics aglow at some hidden meaning behind her own words that he did not initially understand. With that, the femme shifted her beast-mode and the snow leopard fluttered up to his face, planting a licking kiss on his cheek in motherly affection before swooping down to the landscape below.

Friend looked down at his hand. In his clutch was a small, but still beautiful red rose.

**viii**

_Weight of the World _- Saliva

He carried the weight of the world, and understood more than anyone else that it was going to someday crush him.

Before when the Beast Wars started, the only thing he had to care for was his crew on the _Axalon_. It was a peaceful existence where, despite his rank as their commander, he only really had to worry for himself. Ransack, Rollout, and Cheater were all plenty capable of dealing with themselves and their wellbeing was never at all his problem, but then they heard the report of the getaway ship where the stolen Golden Disk was stashed aboard. The _Axalon_ had been the only ship fast and agile enough to catch up with the runaway vessel, but Primal could not have even _guessed_ that it would give him so much more to worry about.

Now, several years after their ship and the _Darkside_ crashed onto prehistoric Earth, he had so much _more_ to care for.

Rashad and Bullet scampered between his legs, laughing and squealing when Cheetor suddenly pounced up from his hiding spot in the bushes and pinned them playfully to the ground. Springtime was especially beautiful on the organic planet that they had learned to call their home away from home, but it was especially stunning in the shade of the massive tree that housed the Beast Wars Bed and Breakfast. How far they came, it seemed, from the days where there was only the fighting between his small Maximal crew and the Predacons. Back then, Optimus Primal was able to actually ensure the safety of his men because, granted, they at least had the capacity to take care of themselves most of the time.

Now, of course, it was a different story.

Some ways away, he watched as Leppender held their daughter up to a small patch of wildflowers. The little sparkling femmebot scrunched her faceplate and sneezed, swatting at the petals of the pink plant playfully. Her high pitched giggle carried for quite some ways across the expanse of the field, voice reminiscent of the sparkling rays cast out from the dazzling sun. The Predacons and Maximals had been at peace for quite sometime after Terrorsaur usurped Megatron from his position as leader, but that was not to say that the threat of their total destruction was far from gone. The insane dragon Predacon had the P.E.L.M. hunters still as his handymen and he was still dangerous enough of an adversary to be easily considered a deity in comparison to the mismatched crew that often gathered and lived amongst the protective stronghold of Airrizzon's Bed and Breakfast, and there was so _much_ that needed protection. So many things - _innocents_ - had their lives suspended by feeble silk threads with Megatron's threat looming, and only Optimus was there to ultimately protect them.

Pinkpanther was suddenly at his side looking up at him. She was holding Ion while the little sparkling skunk Maximal tried to playfully reach out to touch Optimus Primal's huge arm. The femme feline had a bright look on her face, innocence as blatant as her son's. "What's wrong?"

Optimus sighed, looking away from the festivities. There was so much to keep safe, and only one of him to ensure of it.

**ix**

_It's the Fear _- Within Temptation

Just because _he_ was the dark, did not necessarily mean he was not afraid of it himself.

He had been "normal" like most other Transformers on Cybertron, but selfishness and lust ultimately drove him to become what he was, regardless as to how he felt about his own sick transformation. He was a scientist in that normal lifetime, with an average wage and a decent enough life, although it changed once his troubled employer felt as though there was something amiss with Phobia. It was then, after some minor probing, that the employer found the child pornography on his computer. Phobia was immediately arrested, fired, and consequently forbidden from continuing in his career because he was banned from using computers, and this unable to continue his job since it required that he use them.

He tried to get help. He honestly did. It did not help. It was then that the Tripredicus Council hired him.

The three wise once Decepticons wanted someone malicious to do the job they needed done, but also someone who had no one else to go to. This was to prevent whoever they hired from chickening out and reporting what it was the Council had in plan to the public. That would create problems for them, and thus that was how they hired him. They had their head P.E.L.M. agent, Ravage, go to his doorstep to being him to the Council's orbiting station so that their proposal to him could be met. It was there that Phobia learned of the P.E.L.M. schooling scam, and in due ended up rapt in its dark workings. It was all very simple really, and very well paying. Phobia needed money desperately as it was. P.E.L.M. was disguised as a school for intellectually gifted children, but in reality was a laboratory where experiments were carried out on psychic, power wielding sparklings. It was originally intended for just those rare Maximal physics, although Predacons were eventually brought into the picture when it was discovered that even some children amongst their faction held the mutated psychic gene too.

Phobia took the job. He originally tried to pretend that it was for the gain of learning about such an interesting mutation and keep it from happening in the future, but even _he_ knew that it was a lie. He himself was a very good liar, but there was no fooling himself when he was the real jester in the court. He wanted the money and he wanted to get his hands on those children. It scared him in the deep recesses of his processor, though only when he was not cackling with greed and groaning with his own sick pleasure when he had a sobbing sparkling pinned between his legs.

Years passed. Eventually, the Maximal Elders joined forces with the Tripredicus Council in funding P.E.L.M. and their corrupt alliance sent him to join Megatron's crew on the _Darkside_ to search for a large group of escaped experiments. He was still partially terrified of himself, at that point in time.

Something in the darkness scuttled.

Tarantulus whipped around, dark purple and Transmetal spider limbs snapping in place where they sat suspended on his back. Whatever it was that scurried out of sight in the darkness, it was gone now. The scientist let out a low, unnerved hiss before turning back to his computer. On the screen was an image of Waspinator, a mech he had already identified as being one of P.E.L.M.'s past victims. He pressed a button to flip to another image. Rampage. Blaze. Soultail. Leppender. Pinkpanther. Tigertron. He kept going through them, attempting to keep himself occupied. Even though he changed his name, he still could not change himself.

"It's the fear," he muttered. Fear of the darkness growing inside of him, and knowing that there was no hope of ever lighting it.

**x**

_You Decide_ - Fireflight

"You've been searching, you've been crying out… will you be destroyed by all your doubt?"

Darktide looked up.

Soultail, it seemed, always had very philosophical tendencies. Whether or not this was a result of her powers influencing the overall mentality of her mind or just her actual nature, it went mostly unknown amongst her comrades and even herself. No one ever questioned it really, because it was more useful than it was worth questioning. Most people who participated at the workings of the Bed and Breakfast - Maximal, Predacon, or otherwise - would frequently go to her for help, but Darktide never went to find help in anybody. It was a common belief of his that, if he could not help himself, than nobody would be able to sufficiently help him in return at all.

That did not stop Soultail from at least trying, though.

The black wolf watched the twelve tailed fox from her perch on the high rock. The sun was rising in the distance, looking like a fiery flower blooming against a black garden of celestial butterflies. Soultail was watching him intently, eyes acute and calculating. There was a glowing force of wise integrity within them. Its presence within her was something that the neutral wolf envied deeply. Darktide momentarily had to wonder what was going through her head when she went out to find him or how she even found him to begin with. He thought that he had had hidden himself so well, thinking no one would ever find him, but now one had. Soultail was just as good of a tracker as she was at giving out advice, it seemed.

Darktide sighed and ducked his head low. He could not look her in the face without lying to her. Without saying a word, he turned to leave with the hope that she would not follow.

While he raced away, he thought he heard her call out to him. Whether or not it was his own imagination however, was beyond him.

"_You decide."_

**Fin**


End file.
